A Very Merry Cliche
by HappyTrottingElf
Summary: An alternative take on the episode "Happy as a turkey on Boxing Day". Kevin and Con are both missing, and concern is mounting as the weather takes a turn for the worse. The villagers decide to mount a search so they pair up and head out into the countryside.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note - Re-read the title and don't say you weren't warned!_

* * *

Assumpta looked up from sweeping to see Peter walking up the street humming. She frowned, the tune sounded vaguely familiar. Then she grinned as she recognised it. "Wham, really? Shouldn't it be all Ding dong merrily on high for you?"

Peter stopped in front of her and grinned. "I like the classics."

She stared at him for a second then laughed. She loved his quirky sense of humour. "Just don't let Father Mac hear you say that. He probably considers it blasphemous to sing any song other than a carol at Christmas time."

"Yes but his favourite carol is Little Donkey, so that goes to show how much he knows about music."

"Little Donkey really? It sounds like a funeral dirge."

"And yet he insisted that I included it at midnight mass."

Assumpta pulled a face. "And I didn't think the man could go down any more in my estimation. Why would he choose that when there are so many great carols out there?"

Peter glanced at her with a questioning look on his face.

"Oh don't look at me like that just because I don't like the church doesn't mean I can't enjoy a good carol."

"Really, so what's your favourite carol? Maybe I'll put it in the service."

"Still won't get me up there."

"Come on Assumpta humour me, it's Christmas."

She sighed, "Fine its Hark the Herald Angels Sing." She looked at him curiously, "So what's yours?"

"Tough to pick a favourite but if pushed I'd have to say Come All Ye Faithful."

"Does that beat Wham then?"

"Last Christmas is good but it's not the best ever Christmas song."

"And what would that be? Do they know it's Christmas?"

"A fine song and raised lots of money for charity but the best ever is also the first single I ever bought."

"Which would be," she prompted.

"It's Christmas," Peter screamed in a very credible impression of Noddy Holder at the end of Merry Christmas Everybody.

"Slade was the first single you ever bought, how old are you?" She said through the laughter.

"Hey, less of that, I was only eight and I think it shows pretty good taste. What was the first single you ever bought?"

"I don't want to say."

"Assumpta."

"Xanadu by Olivia Newton-John," she said quietly.

Peter snorted, "I'm sorry did you just say Xanadu?"

Assumpta held up a warning a finger at him, "I was only about ten and I was going through a phase."

Peter wasn't even trying to control the laughter now. "Here was me thinking you were cool," he gasped between laughs.

"Alright glam rock boy."

"If I added that into the midnight mass would that persuade you to come?" he asked still chuckling.

She bit back a smile and tried to put on her best 'don't mess with me face', "Not even then."

"Ah that has made my day." He turned to cross the street to Kathleen's which is where he'd originally been heading.

"Peter if you tell anyone," she yelled after him.

He merely grinned, waved at her and carried on walking.

She went back inside the pub pushing the door shut behind her and then allowed herself a smile. She loved it when Peter let his guard down with her and let her see the man under the collar. She rolled her eyes at herself and tried to wipe the silly smile from her face because if she was honest with herself it was far too close to being a silly love-struck smile for comfort. She mentally started listing everything she hated about the clergy, a regular activity for her whenever Peter's smiles and silly comments provoked that jelly-like feeling in her insides, but the memory of his green eyes twinkling when he'd teased her threatened to be her undoing.

"Focus Assumpta," she muttered to herself and started preparing for lunch. She was well into the task before she realised she had Last Christmas stuck in her head. She idly sang one of the last verses to herself. "A face on a lover with a fire in his heart. A man undercover but you tore him apart. Maybe next year I'll give it to someone. I'll give it to someone special."

She groaned this had to stop. At least she had friends coming over Christmas which would give her something else to think about and some new faces to talk to.


	2. Chapter 2

Two days later, on Christmas Eve, Peter stood examining packets of stuffing in Hendley's. It wasn't turning out to be a great Christmas; he was spending it alone and at this rate he wasn't even going to get any turkey unless by some miracle he found someone willing to slaughter the poor bird for him. Honestly, how was he supposed to kill it when Eamon had given it a name and every time he approached it it would look at him so innocently?

He was startled out of his thoughts by Assumpta asking him something about the turkey. He changed the subject quickly. Unfortunately in his desperation he picked another subject that he didn't much fancy discussing, the arrival of the party of Assumpta's university friends. He tried not to dwell on why he didn't like this topic and especially not to think about how many eligible men there might be among this group. At the mention of the party Assumpta smiled brightly at him, the smile that made his stomach somersault, and practically skipped out of the shop. He stared after her until Kathleen called his attention back to his purchases.

The day didn't get any better. He arrived home only to be interrupted by Father Mac who was foisting his nephew off on him for the Christmas period. Peter had nothing against the young man but he had a lot of things on his mind at the moment, okay no, if he was honest he had one thing on his mind at the moment, one person to be more precise. He was struggling more than ever recently to drive thoughts of her from his head and he wasn't in the mood to put on a front in his own home, it was bad enough he spent the whole time doing it in public.

Also if he was also being completely honest Timmy seemed a bit too, how was it Father Mac put it, _capable. _Peter suspected that the mood he was in at the moment Timmy's eagerness might start to grate after a while.

* * *

Assumpta's heart leapt when she saw Peter standing in the corner of Hendley's intently studying the back of a packet of stuffing. She grinned and then schooled her features into concern, all set to quiz him about the renowned Dustin the Turkey. He took her by surprise when he cut her off and asked about the party of friends she had coming. She looked down, embarrassed, and said something inane about it being fun. She wasn't sure why she didn't want to discuss this with him. Actually, no, if she was honest it was because she'd gone back and forth several times about whether she should invite him or not. She'd even made a mental list of the pros and cons.

Reasons to invite Peter: He's one of my best friends, he'll be on his own at Christmas, he'd get on well with my friends, I want to spend Christmas with him.

Reasons not to invite Peter: It's not the done thing for a young single woman to invite a priest to dinner, my friends would wonder why on earth I'd invited a priest to dinner, the reason I really want him to come is I know he'd stay late and help me clear up and maybe...

She stopped that thought in its tracks and instead made a flimsy excuse about needing to get back to the bar, gave him an all too bright smile and practically bolted out of the shop. She paused on the pavement to let a car go by and shivered. It was definitely getting colder and felt like it might snow.

She couldn't escape the topic of Peter even when she was back in the pub.

"I wonder if Peter ever gets lonely at Christmas," Siobhan mused. Assumpta looked down feeling guilty. Then Siobhan made matters even worse by asking Assumpta why she didn't ask Peter to join her for Christmas. She stuttered looking for an excuse before saying that she didn't think Peter would feel comfortable around her friends. This was rubbish of course but she wasn't going to say that it was her who might not feel comfortable having Peter around. Or was it that she felt entirely too comfortable being around him? Brendan joked that her party might have several good looking fellows in it and she thought she gave a very creditable performance of suggesting that she was interested in one of them.

* * *

Later in the day Assumpta answered the phone only to find out that her friends had fallen ill and couldn't make it for Christmas. She hung up with a sinking heart; she could cope with it the rest of the year but was it too much to ask that she wasn't alone for Christmas.

She spent the rest of the day working on autopilot trying to fight off the feelings of depression that were threatening to overwhelm her. But her thoughts would then turn to Peter. He was no longer alone this Christmas, she'd met the bundle of energy and enthusiasm that was Father Mac's nephew earlier, and she couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. Should she now ask him to spend Christmas here, safe in the knowledge that they'd have a chaperone? She tried to ignore the small voice that said had Timmy not been around this could be the perfect situation; a full day alone together with no interruptions. Not that she was thinking of it in a romantic way she told herself, no Christmas wasn't a romantic time. The voice in her head snorted and an image of her and Peter snuggled up in front of the fire flashed into her head. She groaned this was all irrelevant anyway, if she invited Peter she'd have to invite Timmy too and that was probably just as well. The treacherous voice began contemplating events that could lead to Timmy having to leave early. She picked up the phone and dialled Peter's number before any more ridiculous scenarios could play out in her head.

* * *

Peter had had a long day. Timmy had turned out to be good company but he was more than fed up of hearing praise for Timmy's future vocation and especially for his accent. He thought the community had moved passed that and accepted him like one of their own but it seemed that old prejudices were ingrained.

When the phone rang that evening Peter was relieved and delighted to hear Assumpta's voice on the other end. She might dislike the church and what he did for a living but at least she had reasoned arguments and not just deep-seated bias against his accent. He wondered aloud the reason for her phoning, but she said there was no reason and then wished him a happy Christmas. He couldn't help but let a soppy grin break out on his face at that thought; she'd called just to wish him a Merry Christmas, she was thinking about him. Then she went one step further and invited him for Christmas dinner. In any other circumstances Peter would probably have jumped at the chance and to hell with the gossip and consequences, but the last thing he wanted to do was spend Christmas Day watching her with her old friends. They were probably all male and would probably spend the evening flirting with her, why wouldn't they she was gorgeous. No, the last thing Peter wanted at the moment was to have to watch her being chatted up by and possibly even flirt with other men. He made a hurried excuse about her having enough people to cook for and him having Timmy as a guest.

He was taken aback when she suggested he bring Timmy along and tentatively mentioned that he was Father Mac's nephew, suspecting that Assumpta would rescind her invite immediately with this information. Surprisingly, Assumpta already knew that. A small smile escaped Peter's lips as he wondered if Timmy had not fully introduced himself and expanded on his future career path. There was a slight pause when he told her that Timmy was due to take orders but she then retorted that she didn't care, she just thought they'd both be good company, and then she hung up. Peter stared at the phone, bewildered about what had just happened. He contemplated calling her straight back but knew if she was angry at him that might not be the best option, especially since he had no idea what he'd done. He decided to call in on her after mass the next morning, before her friends arrived, on the pretence of wishing her a merry Christmas and working out then what was wrong. Trying to put it out of his mind he pulled two beers out of the fridge and settled in for an evening with Timmy.

* * *

Assumpta finished up for the night and turned off all the lights. She took one last look at the phone. He hadn't called her back but then he knew her too well. He probably thought he'd get an earful and that she'd hang up on him again. She suspected he'd drop in early tomorrow morning to ask her what was wrong, he was predictably lovely like that. She sighed, she should have called him back and apologised and been honest about the situation but she hadn't wanted it to seem like she was begging for his company. She had no idea what she'd say to him in the morning, the truth she supposed. What if he didn't come, maybe he didn't care about her that much. Who would blame him after the way she'd spoken to him on the phone? Tears of self-pity threatened but she wiped them away and reluctantly turned her back on the phone and headed upstairs to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note - Thank you to everyone who's left reviews. I thought the last chapter was a bit different from my usual stuff, because of the lack of dialogue and was worried it would just come across as meaningless ramblings, so it was lovely to get some positive feedback._

_Alexiah Rose - Thank you for clearing that up! I watched a couple of clips on You Tube to check I had a scene correct before I posted and discovered this one. Originally I'd missed it out because I watched the version on my DVD when I first wrote the chapter. I ended up having to rewrite the end before I could post but at least I now know why I'd forgotten about that scene. I can't believe they cut it on the DVD!_

Assumpta was woken up by the church bells on Christmas morning. She groaned and pulled a pillow over her head as reality slowly filtered in; she was spending Christmas by herself after her friends had cancelled and she had taken out her frustrations out on Peter.

She lay there for a while longer feeling sorry for herself and finally dragged herself out of bed to have a shower and get dressed. Looking out the window she discovered it had snowed overnight and looked like it might again. The main street was covered by a blanket of snow. The place looked beautiful, like some sort of fairytale Christmas. If only she had someone to share it with she thought bitterly. She couldn't help but glance up the road towards the church. Peter would be taking mass now but would he drop in after? She wasn't sure what she'd do if he didn't, she didn't relish the idea of knocking on his door because inevitably Timmy would be there to hear the conversation. Assumpta didn't dwell on why she didn't want Timmy overhearing a seemingly innocent conversation. She also tried not to think about why she was getting dressed up and putting makeup on for a day at home on her own.

She ate her breakfast with constant glances at the front door and eventually decided to distract herself by opening a present or two. She put on a CD she'd gotten and as The Pogues started playing she wondered what Peter thought about this Christmas song but her thoughts were interrupted when someone banged at the door. She hurriedly went to open it hoping it might be him but was slightly disconcerted to find not only Peter, but a concerned looking Brendan and Timmy as well. She covered her disappoint that he was not alone with a silly joke about them being the three wise men. Peter explained that they wanted to use the pub as a base to organise a search for Kevin and Con who'd apparently gone missing. She readily agreed and quickly dismissed Peter's fears that they would disturb her non-existent party, now wasn't the time to get into explanations.

Ambrose was out looking for Con who'd run off earlier and who Padraig felt sure knew where Kevin was. Timmy was waiting outside for Ambrose. Brendan and Peter sat at the bar both looking worried. She knew why; it might be like Con to pull a stunt like this but it definitely wasn't like Kevin. If Kevin was missing then something must have happened.

Assumpta paced behind the bar and then stopped and leant against it. Her eyes fell on Peter who was staring into space chewing his thumb in a nervous gesture. It wasn't until Timmy ran inside to say Ambrose was back that she realised she'd subconsciously mimicked Peter's nervous gesture and that she'd been gazing at him for the last few minutes.

They all ran outside to greet Ambrose, but it was bad news.

"I've been up and down all the roads round here but I can't see any sign of them and the weather looks like it might be closing in. I've asked for back up from Kildargen, we need to start searching the countryside on foot to find them."

"What can we do Ambrose?" Peter's voice was full of concern.

Ambrose nodded appreciatively at the offer of help and said, "If people wanted to help by forming search teams that would be grand. I need to go and tell Padraig what's happening. See you back here in fifteen minutes?"

Peter nodded and turned to the others, "Let's round up anyone who might be willing to help and put some warmer clothes on."

Twenty minutes later there was a small crowd in Fitzgeralds and Ambrose was explaining the plan. "There's a team of officers on their way from Kildargen and they'll be searching this area," Ambrose gestured at a map, "and knocking on doors. But any civilian help would be appreciated to search these smaller areas here. There's already snow on the ground so the going will be treacherous and it looks like it might snow again so it's very important that you only search areas you're familiar with, that you stick in twos and don't get separated, that you are appropriately clothed and everyone has a working torch and a radio.

"Alright Ambrose we'll even remember to go to the toilet before we leave too," Assumpta muttered impatiently.

"He's only doing his job." Niamh leapt to her husband's defence.

"I know but we're not children."

"I don't want anyone else going missing so I would thank you to listen," Ambrose said angrily.

"We know that Ambrose," Peter soothed, whilst giving Assumpta a look. "How do you want us to split into teams?"

"You need to be in pairs, where at least one person knows the countryside or how to navigate."

"I'll stay here and man the base," Brian announced.

"I best stay with you Brian," Imelda piped up.

"Ah no I think you'd be better waiting at Padraig's in case they go there."

"No need Brian," Ambrose said sharply. "We've left a note on the door telling them to come here." He scowled at his father-in-law who decided against arguing.

"Well I know Kilnashee pretty well," Brendan said whilst examining the map, "I'll happily take that area."

"I know that area too Brendan, I'll come with you," said Michael.

"Actually doc I need you to stay a bit closer just in case," Ambrose admitted. "Would you mind taking the river bank?"

"No problem Ambrose, but I can cover that on my own." When he saw Ambrose looking doubtful he added, "It's close to the town and I know it well. You need more manpower up on the hills."

Ambrose nodded and indicated the other areas that needed to be covered.

"I'll help you at Kilnashee Brendan," Padraig declared.

Ambrose looked doubtful, clearly worried about the worried about the safety of an over anxious parent in this weather.

Padraig saw the look. "I'm not sitting around on my backside while my son's out there Ambrose." He continued in softer, pleading tones, "I need to feel like I'm doing something, please."

Ambrose glanced at Brendan who gave a small and that was one area covered on the map.

"I can do up around Eamon's farm. I phoned Eamon and he wants to help so I'll pick him up and we'll get started," Siobhan said. Ambrose looked doubtful again so she continued in a sharper tone, "If you're thinking you shouldn't send a woman and an old man out together then you can stop right there. Eamon and I have been tending his sheep up on those hills in all weathers for years."

"Right so Siobhan and Eamon will cover this area." Ambrose marked this on the map.

"I can do this area," Assumpta piped up pointing to another hilly region.

"That's pretty difficult terrain round there are you sure?"

She gave him a withering look. "I take Finn up there a couple of times a week I'll be fine."

"In nice weather though Assumpta," Brendan tried to say diplomatically.

"Well can anyone do a bit of navigating?" Ambrose turned to the group.

"I can read a map and I've navigated in bad weather before," Peter said.

"This isn't Manchester drizzle Father." She had no idea what made her say it. Maybe she was worried that her face had given her away because she would much rather team up with Peter than anyone else. So perversely she felt she had to be nasty to him so no one realised.

He wasn't fazed and said, "We'll I've climbed a few Munroe's as well as countless Wainwrights and Snowdon and the weather comes in pretty quickly in those areas."

"Fair enough," Ambrose said looking at Assumpta.

"Fine, just don't get us lost."

Peter quirked an eyebrow at her. "I thought you already knew where you were going?"

Assumpta narrowed her eyes at him trying not to smile and turned her attention back to Ambrose who was busy organising Liam and Paddy O'Shea to cover the fields on the west side of the village.

"Right that leaves the moorland tops over here." Ambrose prodded the map.

"Well I can do there, I've done a bit of navigating meself," Timmy said smiling at Peter.

"Right, great. Volunteer to join Timmy?" Ambrose asked.

"I'll go," Donal piped up.

"Right," Ambrose marked off the last part of the map. "You all stick in your pairs and check in with base here every 30 minutes. Brian, I'll show you how to work the radio and you can keep me updated. I need to go now and organise the reinforcements." Ambrose was getting into his stride.

"Oh well done love." Imelda was bursting with pride.

"And what about me?" demanded Niamh.

"Well love you can't go wandering about the countryside in your cond..."

Brian cut Ambrose off as he saw his daughter's face darkening. "Ah Niamh stay here and help will me, I can't do it all by myself."

"That's right Niamh you can stay and help me make sandwiches for the men," added Imelda, unhelpfully.

This time Assumpta waded in before Niamh lost her temper. "Niamh stay and help Brian work the radio, he'll be useless with the technology otherwise."

Brian was about to retort but bit his tongue when he saw Niamh give a small nod of agreement.

With the areas all covered Ambrose started handing out maps and giving instructions on how to work the radio and gradually the pairings began to leave the pub.

"Shall we?" Peter asked holding the door open for her. "We'll take your van yeah?" When she nodded he threw Timmy his car keys saying he could take the Javelin.

"No need Father," cried Donal. "Liam and Paddy are taking Paddy's Landrover, it's better on the rough terrain than the truck so we'll take it."

Timmy shrugged at Peter and tossed his keys back to him. Peter pocketed them and climbed into the van's passenger seat. He gave Assumpta a warm smile, "Not quite how we expected to be spending Christmas eh?"

Assumpta put the van in gear and drove off wondering what on earth they were getting themselves into.


	4. Chapter 4

There was silence in the van as they wound their way carefully along the snowy roads. Assumpta was busy concentrating on driving and Peter was intently studying the area they were heading to on an OS map. She soon turned the van right off the main road but was forced to stop when she felt the tyres slip and spin on the snow that lay on the road.

"I can't risk going any further, they must have ploughed and gritted the main road at some point this morning but haven't done the minor ones. I don't think the van will make it any further and even if it does I don't think we'd get back out."

Peter looked up the road and agreed. Then, after studying the map, said, "Look we're not that far from the hills. There should be a footpath not far up this road that cuts through the forest here," he pointed at the map, "Then we'll reach the hills on the other side."

She saw the path on the map he meant, it only looked like a walk of a couple of miles, so she readily agreed.

They both pulled on waterproofs, hats, scarves and gloves and grabbed their rucksacks from the back of the van. Peter pulled the radio out of his rucksack and checked in with the pub to let them know they were altering their route slightly. Niamh picked up and told them that everyone was finding the weather conditions tough and that they should take care.

Assumpta watched Peter stuff the radio back into his already full rucksack. "All I've got is some sandwiches, some slices of Christmas cake and a flask of tea. What on earth is in your bag?"

"Map, compass, torch and radio. Spare hat, gloves, socks and an extra base layer. Two bottles of water, a flask of hot chocolate, sandwiches, three bananas and a box of chocolates. Small first aid kit, spare laces and two small emergency blankets." He reeled off the list quickly.

Assumpta just stared at him and his day pack, "You've got two blankets in there?"

"Just the small emergency foil kind. You know, like the ones they give to runners at the end of a marathon."

"I'm guessing you were a boy scout?"

"Well yes and also a recipient of a Duke of Edinburgh award so I've done some walking and camping in fairly remote areas and this is what I always carry, more or less. But aren't the blankets and first aid kit especially important since we don't know what's happened to the boys?"

"I guess so, at least you're prepared." He gave her a small smile at this and they walked on in silence until she said, "It's freezing, if they've been out all night in this…"

"I know but Kev's a sensible kid and even Con's got his wits about him," he tried to reassure her but looked worried and they both picked up their pace, calling the boys names every so often.

They found the footpath and had to climb over a rickety stile that had seen better days. Peter managed it no problem with his long legs and he automatically stuck his hand out to help Assumpta over. It was only when she took his hand that it occurred to her how infrequently they touched. They were good friends, there was no denying that, and yet had they ever hugged? Had she ever kissed him on the cheek as she would other friends when wishing them a Merry Christmas or Happy Birthday? No, it was like there was some sort of tacit agreement between them that their friendship was subject to certain stringent guidelines. There had been a couple of exceptions of course. The time she'd been clouted on the head with a rock and he'd cleaned the wound for her. She remembered being startled and shocked at the feelings he'd elicited in her; how her heart had sped up as he gently held her face to examine the cut.

The only other time they'd been close, physically close, was the play. That had been her undoing. She'd liked him a lot up to that point and would even concede that she found him attractive but the kiss that never was had changed everything for her. Her disappointment when the moment failed to materialise had been crushing and she had replayed that scene over in her head countless times. She sighed and looked at Peter who was walking ahead of her on the narrow path. Was he remotely aware of the feelings she had? She thought he must be, given how carefully they danced around certain subjects. And, although she knew he was dedicated to his vocation and would never break his vows, she often thought he was aware of the chemistry between them. That was why they usually strictly enforced the 'no touching' rule.

Peter trudged on through the snow, although there was much less on the ground here thanks to the cover of pine trees all around them. He prayed that Kevin and Con hadn't spent the night on higher ground because it was going to be bad up there. He was aware of Assumpta's soft, light tread following him and flexed his fingers slightly at the memory of her hand fitting perfectly into his at the stile. He realised he always tried to avoid touching her, to avoid temptation he supposed and snorted. He thought about their time together in the play nearly every night and nearly every night he sinned in his imagination. He remembered her caressing his cheek, gazing at him with an intense expression on her face. He could remember the smell of her shampoo and feel her minty breath against his cheek. And then they'd been interrupted and he'd been well what had he been, saved or lost? He still couldn't decide and sighed deeply.

"We'll find them or someone else will. I'm sure they'll be okay." Assumpta had mistaken his sigh for concern about the boys. A wave of guilt flooded over him as he realised he was once again thinking about her when he should be thinking about his parishioners.

They walked on in silence through the forest until Assumpta broke the quiet by exclaiming, "A box of chocolates?"

"What?" He turned to look round at her in confusion.

"I've just realised you said one of the things you had in your rucksack was a box of chocolates. Why on earth would you bring that?"

"Chocolate gives you energy; it's especially satisfying in cold weather."

"Well yes but that's usually a Mars bar or something."

"Didn't have any Mars bars at home and I'm clean out of Kendal mint cake too but I did get a lot of boxes of chocolate for Christmas so I improvised and brought one of them."

"How many's a lot?" Assumpta asked curiously.

"I didn't count, probably between fifteen and twenty."

"Twenty?" She exclaimed.

"Well what do you give a priest for Christmas? Most people settle on either chocolates or socks."

"How many pairs of socks did you get?"

"Let's just say my feet won't get cold this year. My particular favourites are ones with angels flying all over them," he deadpanned.

Assumpta snorted with laughter and shook her head. "Twenty boxes of chocolate, it's a wonder you're not fat."

"Well I don't scoff them all myself," he said witheringly. "I give them out as prizes at the kids mass, took some to the children's ward in the hospital last year too."

"God is it ever tiring being such a saint?" He merely chuckled in response.

"How do you qualify to be a needy cause and the lucky recipient of one of your boxes?" She asked hinting heavily.

"Oh you know the usual. I suppose the general qualifications would be someone who's a friend, who works very hard in the community and deserves to put her feet up occasionally with a nice bottle of wine and a box of chocolates."

"Oh good I was hoping I might qualify for one." He turned round and grinned at her and she continued, "I'll let you share it with me and I'll even provide the wine."

It was out of her mouth before she could sensor it and she cringed. She sounded like she was flirting with him, almost as if she was asking him out on a date.

She hurried to say something else to try and gloss over the blunder. "It's probably all cheap chocolate that I wouldn't like anyway."

"Hey the majority are Roses or Quality Street but this year there's even a tin of Celebrations," he said proudly.

"Mmm I love Bounties and the Galaxy Truffles," she said appreciatively as she paused at a kissing gate at the other end of the forest to let him pass through.

"Good because those are always the ones I've got left," he said turning to smile at her so they were separated only by the gate. "We'd make a good team."

They looked at each other for a moment and Assumpta's heart raced. Then he quickly looked away and said hastily, "A chocolate eating team at least."

"Right chocolate eating," parroted Assumpta trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice as she negotiated the gate. She gave herself a mental shake. "And hopefully a good search party team too."

"Search party, definitely," he muttered and began calling the boys name's again as they made their way onto a more exposed path that started to climb upwards.

The going was much worse in the higher, more exposed ground. What had been a snow fall of just a few inches in the valley was significantly more here so the going was slow and treacherous in places. Their conversation ceased as they both concentrated on keeping their footing on the uphill path. They stopped occasionally to check the map and have a drink but mostly kept going.

The path had been zigzagging uphill for an hour or so before they reached the summit, or the first plateau at least because Peter had pointed out on the map that it climbed again shortly. Assumpta felt bad that she couldn't be more help. Because they'd had to abandon the van prematurely and take a different route she now felt in unfamiliar territory. It didn't help that the snow had completely changed the landscape.

Peter pulled the radio out of his bag and checked in. There was still no sign of the two boys from the other parties and the signal was now so bad they could barely hear Brian. It had started to snow lightly again and a look of concern for the kids passed between them. Assumpta renewed calling their names as Peter packed the radio away, pulled the map and compass out, took a bearing and they continued across the first snowy hilltop.

The weather started to close in on them as the path began to ascend again. They were up in the cloud now and visibility had been reduced to just five meters or so. What had been light snow was now a driving blizzard in Assumpta's face and Peter, who was still in front, was providing some protection for her so she had no idea how he was seeing anything. They now had to scramble up some rocky sections of the path and Assumpta's woolly gloves were soaking from having to search out hand holds on the rock. Peter was stopping regularly now to check the map and take a bearing, making sure they were still on the right path.

The next time he stopped he turned to her and said something but his voice was carried away by the howling gale. Assumpta shook her head indicating that she couldn't hear. He stepped closer to her so they both had their backs to the wind, stooped slightly so his lips were just centimetres from her ear and said, "This is getting really bad, I think maybe we should turn back. What do you think?"

Assumpta reflected that the soft tickle of Peter's breath against her ear should have sent her head into a spin but she was so cold she could barely feel it. She was tempted to agree but then she thought about Kevin and Con being somewhere up there in this weather and she shook her head. "We should at least get to the next top and see if there's any sign of them. The weather might lift yet," she said hopefully.

He looked at her doubtfully but nodded and turned to continue up the path.

They rounded the next corner and came to another short but more precarious scramble up and over a rocky outcrop. Peter stopped looking dubiously at it and turned to look questioningly at her. She pushed her hair out of her face and examined the rocks then stood on tiptoes so she could yell in Peter's ear.

"If we stick to that side, away from the edge I think it'll be fine."

He studied the section she was pointing too and nodded reluctantly. "Okay, but you first." She glared at him and he bent down to her ear again. "That way if you slip I'll catch you."

Assumpta looked up at Peter, realised he was being completely serious, rolled her eyes at this male need to protect the little woman and began to climb.

Peter had been in earnest when he made the suggestion. She'd spotted the way up so she should act as pathfinder and if she slipped he'd hopefully steady her. It made sense, if he went first and misjudged a footing his weight could make them both fall. It might only be a fall of a few meters but he really didn't want either of them to have to make it back down that path with any twists or sprains. So yes it was a sensible suggestion, what he hadn't considered was his view he thought as he tried not to stare at her bottom.

Assumpta had begun scrambling up and didn't think it was too bad until her left foot slipped and the shock made her momentarily lose her left handhold too. Immediately there was a hand on her hip steadying her. Actually, Assumpta thought, the hand was more on her arse but he'd stopped her from falling backwards so she wasn't about to berate him for it. Once she'd regained her handhold he seemed to realise she was secure once more and the hand disappeared from her backside and was suddenly guiding her foot to a more secure footing. She climbed the next metre or two without incident and reflected that although she was all for feminism and being an independent woman, occasionally it was nice to have a strong pair of arms around to help.

She heaved herself onto the flat ground at the top of the outcrop, again with some help from Peter below and then turned to offer him a hand up which he gratefully took. They leant against a rock in a sheltered enclave to get their breath back.

"Sorry about that," Peter gestured vaguely down the mountain with embarrassment.

"What saving me from tumbling backwards down the rock?"

"No, I mean em," he stuttered.

She took pity on him and cut him off smiling at him and saying, "Thank you."

He nodded and looked on up the path. "Shall we get round the next corner and then look at the map again?" He gestured to the map and compass that he already had out and ready in his hand. "Maybe the cloud lifts a bit round the corner."

Assumpta snorted at his optimism but assented and turned to lead the way up the next bit of path. The going was thick with snow and wound round near the edge of the hill, which had a fairly steep drop on the other side, but at least it could be climbed without having to use your hands. She made her way up inwardly smiling at Peter's embarrassment when her left foot suddenly gave way again. What she had thought was some snow on the path, turned out to be a snowy overhang right at the edge. Her foot went straight through the snow and hit nothingness underneath. She tried to maintain her balance but too much of her weight had been on her left foot and almost in slow motion she felt herself fall through the snow and over the edge.


	5. Chapter 5

It happened in slow motion one minute Peter was trudging up the path behind Assumpta, the next she gasped, wind milling her arms in the air, the snow gave way beneath her and she started to slide over edge.

In that moment Peter understood all those stories about adrenaline surges in emergency situations. He had been a metre or two behind her on the path but some primal instinct kicked in and, almost on autopilot, he leapt forward towards her disappearing form. His hand caught her left one but her glove started to come off and he could feel her slipping. She'd managed to wedge her right foot into a crevice but her left was scrambling against the dirt and her right hand was trying to reach up to him.

He wriggled further forward on the cold wet ground until his head and shoulders were hanging precariously over the edge. He flung his hand out towards her which she managed to grab and slowly he inched back pulling her with him. When he'd pulled her up far enough and her arms were over the edge he hooked his hands under her arms, grabbing handfuls of her jacket, and heaved. They tumbled backwards together and he landed in the snow with her face down on top of him. They lay like that for several minutes panting. Assumpta's face was buried in his scarf and he could feel her breath against his neck gradually steadying. He had his arms round her and couldn't help but tighten them and, in a rare moment of honesty, whispered, "God I thought I'd lost you then," in her ear.

Assumpta's heart, which had been slowing back to its usual rate, began thumping again in her chest. She lifted her head up to look at him and he met her gaze. Assumpta swallowed and softly said, "Thank you, again."

Peter said nothing just shook his head and smiled at her and for a moment Assumpta thought he was going to kiss her, but the moment passed and he merely chuckled and said, "You're starting to make a habit of getting into jeopardy."

Assumpta felt a hot flush of embarrassment, of course he didn't want to kiss her, and disappointment, that it hadn't materialised. She suddenly became aware of the awkward position in which they found themselves; she was pressed against his body, trapping him under her. Flustered she rolled off onto the snow and began struggling to her feet. A moment later he did the same. She gingerly stood, testing all her limbs and brushing snow from herself and then her breath caught in her throat as he reached to sweep some snow from her head and push a strand of hair out of her face. She shivered as his fingers momentarily brushed against her face.

Peter stood entranced as he watched her try to remove all the snow from herself. She'd lost her hat and her hair was tousled, with strands falling beguilingly across her face. One particular strand was covered with a dusting of snow and kept obstinately falling across her flushed cheeks. Before he knew what he was doing he was reaching to rid her hair of the snow and he couldn't help but tuck the lock behind her ear, tracing his fingers across her cheek as he did so. She shivered and he abruptly stepped away cursing himself and his lack of willpower. The realisation that he'd nearly lost her had weakened his defences and he'd be lucky if she didn't slap him. It was only belatedly that he acknowledged that his vows were also in danger, thinking it was funny that it wasn't the first thing he thought. There was a moment back there when they'd been lying on the ground, her body pressed delightfully against his, that he'd nearly kissed her. He hated to think what her reaction would have been if he had.

He tried to cover his lapse by looking around for her hat; she was obviously shivering because she'd lost it.

"Where's your hat, you'll freeze without it." He was dismayed to hear the crack in his voice and fought to compose himself again.

"I think I lost it somewhere over edge along with my glove," she replied sidling closer to the edge to take a look.

He grabbed her ungloved hand and pulled her back saying with exasperation, "Can we not repeat the experience please." He remembered how close to falling she'd come and said, "Are you sure you're okay?"

He expected a typical Fitzgerald glare, but when she turned to look at him it was with a confused and questioning expression and he realised, with dismay, that he was still holding her hand. He abruptly let it go and started rummaging in his rucksack for his spare hat and gloves. He found them and thrust them at her. She mumbled her thanks and pulled them on. The gloves were far too big but it was better than nothing. The weather seemed to be worsening now if that was possible, Peter could barely see two metres ahead and snow was falling thick and fast.

"We need to get down from here," Assumpta said, moving further back from the edge to shelter against the rocks as she took a long drink from her flask.

He nodded. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, just freezing."

He nodded again looking at her waterproofs and realising they probably weren't made for weather this extreme. He pulled the radio out, planning to let them know they were having to abandon the search. There was nothing but static on the channel and they looked at each other with alarm. He tried several different frequencies and finally heard Niamh's voice. "Hello, hello Father is that you?"

"Niamh can you hear me? Assumpta and I have to turn back the weather's awful."

There was nothing but static again.

"Niamh we're having to abandon the search. Over."

More static and then they heard Niamh's voice very faintly. "Father is that you, I can't hear anything. We've found them."

She broke up again and Peter tried hopelessly to hold the radio up in the air to find a better signal and then tried several other frequencies. He finally gave up and groaned in frustration.

"She said they'd found them though didn't she?" Assumpta's teeth chattered slightly as she spoke.

Peter nodded and looked at her with concern. "We need to get out of this weather. Let me just check the map." He rummaged again in his rucksack and then frantically searched his pockets. Then he paused and thought back through the sequence of events before exclaiming, "Damn it!" Assumpta looked at him in alarm. "I had the map and compass in my hand when I grabbed you, I must have dropped them."

Assumpta looked towards the edge. "Bugger! We can find our way without them though, can't we?" She asked doubtfully, aware of how many times they'd found the path on the way up only because of Peter's skilful navigating.

"Yes we'll be fine," he replied but there was a hesitancy in his voice.

They turned and made their way back to the rocky outcrop that she'd slipped at on the way up. It looked much steeper and more challenging to climb down and, after recent events, she was less sure of her footing than ever. Peter seemed to sense her unease and carefully clambered over the edge and then turned to beckon her. She swung herself over and he guided her feet to footholds that were level with his chest, his hands holding the rocks on either side. They climbed the rest of the way like that and he took it slowly, ready to steady her if she needed it. She didn't though and they reached the bottom in one piece. He helped her down the last part by placing two hands round her waist and guiding her jump down. She stumbled backwards into him upon landing and he tightened his hold to balance her. They stayed like that for a few seconds; Assumpta could feel his chin resting lightly on the top of her head and the press of his body against her back. She was loathe to break away this time and sensed he felt the same but a particularly strong gust of icy wind nearly knocked them both off their feet and, in silent agreement, they continued downhill.

They managed to keep to the path and when the ground evened out they knew they were back at the plateau but the weather was so bad now they couldn't see anything and the snow was blinding them. They slowly made their way in, what they thought was the right direction, but Peter pulled up abruptly when they came to another sharp drop. They retraced their steps a few metres and Peter pulled his scarf off and took her arm tying one end securely round her wrist.

"What are you doing?" She had to yell above the roar of the wind.

"Making sure the same thing doesn't happen again, and that we don't lose each other," he yelled back and proffered his own wrist so she tied the other end round his.

Peter gestured that they should try another direction and Assumpta trudged after him. She was freezing and had given up attempting to stop her teeth chattering. Peter's gloves although warmer than her woolly ones weren't exactly a snug fit and her hands felt numb. The driving snow in her face was becoming excruciatingly painful. Her waterproof trousers weren't so waterproof, snow had seeped into her boots and her jacket was so sodden that she could feel her layers underneath becoming damp. She had never felt more miserable in her life and to top it off it now looked like they were completely lost. She tried to find the positives in the situation to take her mind off her numb fingers and toes. It had sounded like Kevin and Con had been found so at least _they _weren't stuck out in this and she was getting to spend Christmas with Peter which was what she wanted. She shook her head and almost laughed, this wasn't quite the vision she'd had of her and Peter in front of the fire. Still, at least there was no Timmy around.

She plodded on and went over everything that had happened in the last few hours. Perhaps God was torturing her. She had fantasised so much about Peter and here she was thrown together with him in these bizarre circumstances with situation after situation resulting in tantalising close encounters that ultimately led to nothing. And they never could lead to anything she reminded herself, he was a priest.

If this really was the doing of a higher being then he or she really did have a black sense of humour. This whole situation could be something out of a made-for-TV film or work of romantic fiction. But if this was a work of fiction he would have kissed her by now. Either when they'd shared that look across the gate, or when she'd landed on top of him or after she'd stumbled into him. He would have kissed her and confessed his undying love and they would have lived happily ever after. Instead he had pulled away every time and now here they were, tied together with a scarf, wandering about the top of a mountain probably going to die of hypothermia. She snorted with laughter, what else could she do?

He'd gotten them lost, he knew he had. When they couldn't see the way down they should have stopped and waited for the cloud to lift. But he could see how cold she was and there had been no shelter around so he'd pressed on and now they were wandering aimlessly and he was hopelessly disorientated. At some point the length of scarf between them had shortened so much that they were now holding hands. He should have savoured the excuse for the close contact with her but her face was pale, she was shivering uncontrollably and the fight seemed to have left her, she was simply being pulled along by him while staring at the ground.

Thankfully, he suddenly saw a crevice between some rocks that was just big enough for them to squeeze into and it jutted across at such an angle that it would shelter them almost entirely from the weather. It must have been about 3pm and darkness would fall soon. He groaned, that was all they needed. He pulled her down into a crouching position and then pushed her in, crawling in behind her. Then he pulled the two foil blankets from his bag, unwrapped them and placed one on the ground, to try to insulate them from the cold that would seep up, and wrapped the other round her. He sat back against the rock and pulled her down to a sitting position between his legs, he no longer cared about appearances or boundaries. He rearranged the blanket so that she was covered and pulled out his flask, its contents were still warm and he passed it to her. He could feel how soaked her clothes were and was glad he'd re-waterproofed his jacket at the beginning of winter, though his waterproof trousers hadn't held up so well. She took a long drink, trying to control her teeth chattering. She passed it back to him and he had a long drink too, relishing the warmth. Then he told her to put her hands under her armpits, as the best way of warming them, and wrapped his arms round her, trying to heat them both up.

* * *

_Author's note - Yes not only is it the 'he saves her life' cliché (I'm very fond of that one!) it's also that old 'must huddle together for warmth' chestnut. Well I did warn you ;-)_

_If you can bear to review my hackneyed story I'm always very grateful!_


	6. Chapter 6

They stayed like that for a while; Assumpta sat with her knees up to her chin and arms curled round her chest, Peter sat behind her, his legs on either side of hers and his arms wrapped round her, pulling her close to him.

Slowly Assumpta came out of her stupor. She was still freezing and sitting in wet clothes, but she no longer felt like she was literally about to freeze. She burrowed back further into him. He hugged her tighter and his breath tickled her ear as he said, "How're you doing?"

"Well I can feel my fingers and toes again, which must be a good thing."

She felt him smile against her hair. "You had me worried for a while there."

"Sorry and thank you for, you know, keeping me alive."

"I don't think I'm doing a great job. We're lost and it's getting dark," he said heavily.

She closed her hand round one of his. "You stopped me from tumbling over a cliff and you got me here."

He shook his head and continued guiltily, "If only I hadn't lost the map and compass."

"I'm the one that fell and if it was a choice between holding onto the map or me, I'm glad you picked me."

"I shouldn't have had it out, should've put it safely away in my bag."

"Oh for god sake Peter can you give up the guilt for two minutes," she snapped.

There was silence and then she felt his shoulders shaking. She turned to try and look at him and discovered he was laughing. She was about to make a scathing comment when she realised the ridiculousness of their situation. They were lost in the snow with darkness falling, sheltering between two rocks and here she was trying to start an argument with him. She felt a mild hysteria bubble up within her and they sat there giggling for several minutes.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly when the laughter subsided.

"I'm just glad you feel up to berating me again. You scared me back there."

"I think I was so cold I shut down a bit."

"Well at least we're out of the weather here but we're both soaked and the temperatures dropping. I don't want to have to spend the night here."

"No," she agreed, shivering. "Any luck with the radio?"

"Nothing at all."

She sighed and shifted her position to get a better look at their shelter, then gasped. "Peter, do you have the torch?"

"Yeah but I don't want to run the batteries down," he warned.

"I just want to look at something."

He handed her the torch and she shone it at the overhang above their heads. She let out a soft exclamation,"I thought this rock seemed familiar, look."

She pointed above his head and he craned his neck to see. He was taller though and had to shuffle sideways, stooping his shoulders to bring his cheek level with hers. Their cheeks touched and he was aware of how close they were, with her back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around her. He took a moment to appreciate just how wonderful it was to be snuggled up like this, but immediately chastised himself. They were in a perilous situation and all he could do was think about attractive she was. He refocused his attention, trying to keep his breathing even, despite their cheeks touching, and peered at the rock above his head.

There was some letters carved into the rock. He tried to make them out. "NQ hearts DC. AF hearts TB." He took a second to realise the significance then said, "NQ, Niamh Quigley and AF, Assumpta Fitzgerald?"

"Niamh and I made this our sort of hide out one summer. We'd pack a picnic, come up here and talk about boys."

He laughed, "So who might I ask is the unfortunate soul to have the initials TB?"

"Tommy Brennan," she said in an embarrassed voice.

"Wait, Tom Brennan from the farm?" He felt her nod, her hair tickling his face. Tom was nice but he wasn't the sharpest tool in the box.

"I was twelve, you're not very discerning when you're that young," she'd said defensively.

"He's a nice lad I just didn't think he was your type." He gulped, wondering how they'd arrived at this subject. He didn't want to know what her type was.

"He's an idiot, but I was twelve," she protested.

"So who's DC?"

"Daniel Callaghan. He and his family moved to Cork the following summer, Niamh was heartbroken. Anyway, the point is not to take a trip down memory lane and rate my past crushes, it's that I know where we are," she said triumphantly.

"And?" His voice filled with hope.

"There's good and bad news."

He sighed, "Bad news first."

"We're quite far away from where we thought we were. We're also miles from Ballyk and from the van, and the nearest path leading down into the valley would be treacherous in this weather and the dark. It's really steep and has a lot of sharp turns and steep drops."

"Right, what exactly is the good news?"

"Remember when Brian was meeting that old flame of his and Niamh was really upset?"

"Mmm," he said, wondering how this could possibly help their situation.

"That hut he built up on the hill was near here. I remember her saying that it was like adding insult to injury because she felt this was her place."

"That's brilliant. How near is it?"

Assumpta's voice faltered. "I'm not sure I haven't been up here for a while, but that way must be east cause it faces away from the valley Ballykissangel sits in." She pointed at the opening between the two rocks that'd they'd squeezed in. "I'm sure I remember Niamh moaning that Brian's hut was only a few hundred metres from this rock."

"A few hundred metres in this weather though, we might never find it and one of us might end up in trouble again."

"But, Brian had the hut looking over the valley near the top of the path so it must be west from here and I'm sure, if memory serves me correct, that the ground behind us is rocky and uneven so you wouldn't put a hut up on it."

"So you're saying if we stand at this side of the rock," he pointed to the end opposite the entrance and walk southwest we should find it?"

"I think so," she said hesitantly.

"That's a lot of ifs and maybes."

"We can't spend the night here, we'll freeze."

"We'll freeze faster out there if we don't find the hut then can't find our way back to these rocks."

"Peter please, we need to try."

His heart broke at her beseeching tone and he realised that although she was alert and talking again she was putting on a brave face. He was freezing and he wasn't nearly as soaked as she was. "Okay," he agreed softly and Assumpta squeezed his hand.

He was already beginning to regret the decision as soon as they crawled out from between the rocks. Darkness had fallen, the snow was still falling thickly and the wind hit them with an artic chill. Assumpta immediately began shivering again. He slung his arm round her shoulder, pulled her close and began walking in the direction they'd agreed upon, sweeping the torch out in front of them.

Thay walked in one direction for a while, there was no sign of any hut but they could so easily miss it by a few feet in this weather. Peter indicated that he wanted to retrace their steps.

"Go back to the rocks?" She yelled in his ear.

"Just to make sure we can find them again and then set out on another trajectory. I don't want us getting disorientated again."

They turned and began trudging back, heads down. Peter's arm was still round her shoulders and she snuggled into the crook of his arm, grateful for the warmth. At one point on their return journey Assumpta sunk knee deep into a snow drift. Peter pulled her out and then stood in front of her studying her. He didn't have to say anything she nodded to show she was was alright, he smiled briefly and they continued.

She reflected how that look of concern could still make her legs turn to jelly even in these circumstances. She let her mind wander trying not to think about the excruciating cold. Why did he have to be a priest? Why did he have to be so wonderful? Why did he have to be so attractive? Yep if there was a God he was having a good laugh at her.

They found the rock and struck out in a slightly different direction. Just as Assumpta was losing hope that the hut was anywhere near here she caught sight of something solid. She grabbed Peters's hand and swung the torch back in that direction. Yes there was definitely something, he saw it too and they walked towards it hoping it was decent shelter. The hut came into view and Assumpta's heart soared only to be brought back to earth when it occurred to her that Brian might keep it padlocked. They arrived at the door only to find that not only was it unlocked, but that it had blown open in the wind and there was now a small snowdrift in the doorway. Peter crouched down and pushed all the snow outside.

Once inside Assumpta pulled the door shut holding onto the latch to keep it closed against the wind and sunk down on the floor next to it, exhausted and shivering. Peter swept the torch round their shelter, it was still freezing but at least it was dry and out of howling gale.

Peter examined their surroundings and shook his head in disbelief at Brian. There was a small, bare, single bed along the back wall with an upturned crate next to it that was holding a stack of books, magazines and a latern. He tried the latern, delighted to find that the batteries were still working. He turned off the torch and the latern lit up the space adequately. The only other thing in the hut was a cardboard box. He looked in it; there was an old fashioned transistor radio, some cans of coke, a bottle of whisky, some string, a tin containing some biscuits and a sleeping bag.

He grabbed the string and pulled Assumpta up. "We can use this to tie the door shut. Look," he pointed to a nail on the wall next to the door and tied one end to it and the other to the broken lock.

Assumpta sat down heavily on the bed, still shivering. He examined her once the door seemed secure against the storm. "Are you okay? You should take some of your wet things off.

Assumpta looked at him in astonishment then shook her head and laughed.

"What?" Peter looked confused.

Assumpta's brain was screaming at her to shut up but she was cold, wet, tired and fed up of not being able to say what she thought to this man.

"Nothing," she shook her head, "it's just that we're a walking cliche."

"What?," he repeated, more confusion evident on his face.

"Well, honestly you're about the only young single man in Ballykissangel," she thought of Donal and revised that quickly, "young, single and normal, well I mean except for being a priest obviously."

"Obviously," he replied in voice laden with sarcasm.

"And now we're stuck in a hut in the middle of nowhere together, our clothes are soaking wet and its freezing."

Peter looked at her in dismay, was she really going there. What happened to their unspoken rule to never ever get into these sorts of conversations or situations, to not even allude to them.

But Assumpta was off. "I mean it's like a plot from a bad romance novel or terrible rom-com. The characters get stuck somewhere together, have to take off all their clothes and huddle together for warmth." She was fuming now.

"I promise I'll try my best to resist temptation," he said looking critically at her dripping wet form. It was a cheap shot because if he was honest he thought she looked beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and, despite her shivers, she had the spark in her eyes that she always got when she was passionate about something. He wondered if she had that same look when she was just feeling passionate rather than passionately angry, but mentally slammed that door shut.

Assumpta looked down self consciously at her sodden clothes and realised what a mess she must looked. She scowled at him. "Any blankets?"

"Just the one sleeping bag."

"Just one?" She could've laughed again if he wasn't so studiously avoiding her eyes. God really must be punishing her. "I do need to get out these wet things," she finally said reluctantly.

He pulled something out his bag. "Here, put this on," handing her his spare fleece.

"Thanks," she said feeling guilty for her earlier outburst. "You sure you don't need it?"

"I think some of my clothes are still dry and you need it, you're soaking."

He pointedly turned round to face the wall and began stripping off his outer layers. Assumpta gazed at his back for a few moments then did the same.

When they both turned back round Assumpta was standing shivering in just her underwear and his fleece, which skimmed the top of her thighs. He was wearing socks, boxers and a fleece.

"God you must be freezing," he exclaimed, looking at her bare feet. He rummaged in his bag again and tossed her a pair of dry socks then grabbed the sleeping bag.

"The good news is it looks like an extra large one so we can just unzip it and use it like a blanket."

He started to unroll the sleeping bag and unzip it, but the zip would only go a third of the way down no matter how much he struggled.

"What's wrong?" Her teeth were chattering.

"The zips stuck."

She gave him a horrified look. " Here let me." After a few minutes she admitted defeat. "It's stuck, of course it's stuck."

" 'Sumpta he said warningly.

"If this was fiction it would be by a really terrible author who uses cheap plot devices to engineer ridiculous situations for her characters to get into," she grumbled.

"Would you stop giving our situation a literary critique and get in the sleeping bag before you freeze."

"And what exactly are you going to do?" She demanded.

"I'll be fine." He tried in vain to stop himself from shivering while he said it.

"Like hell you will. If you think I'm going to wrap myself up in the only source of warmth we have like some feeble woman while you get hypothermia, you've got another thought coming."

He looked so reluctant she lost her temper. "Peter I realise you find this whole situation repugnant but we don't have much choice. We can probably both squeeze in so would you just come over here now."

He stood there staring at her, warring with the two parts of himself; the one that wanted to climb in with her and hold her close, and the one that said this could change everything and wanted him to run back out into the snow. His freezing body took charge and made the decision for him. He nodded, grabbed the bottle of whisky from Brian's stash and the box of chocolates he had in his bag and moved towards the bed.

"You get in first, you're bigger," she said and he complied. He then tried not to look or move a muscle as Assumpta shimmied in beside him.

They sat up finding that the only way they both fitted was if Assumpta practically sat across his knee.

"I'm too heavy," she protested.

He scoffed, "You're really not. Here," he pulled the sleeping bag up to her neck and she relaxed and leaned her head on his chest sighing.

He reached for the whisky and handed her a Galaxy truffle. "It'll help heat you up."

She grinned at him and accepted, taking a swig of the alcohol then passed it back to him. "Merry Christmas Peter."

He smiled, "Merry Christmas Assumpta."

* * *

_Author's note - Ah yes it's the old 'stuck in one room together and, would you believe it, there's only one bed' routine. An oldy but a goody! _

_Not sure if I'll get another chapter out before Christmas so hope you all have a lovely one._


	7. Chapter 7

They stayed cuddled up like that for a while, slowly heating up, until Assumpta's stomach began to complain.

"I feel like some dinner," she announced.

Peter reached over and grabbed their rucksacks, pulling out some sandwiches, Christmas cake and the remainder of his hot chocolate.

"Fancy making it Irish?" He waved the whisky bottle at her. He wasn't a big whisky drinker but was enjoying the warming feeling and he figured it would taste better in hot chocolate.

"You do realise that it should be Baileys you add to make it Irish?"

"Terribly sorry, the bar's not very well stocked," he retorted.

"Go on then." She watched him add a generous measure to the flask. "Brian would kill us if he knew what we were doing with a twelve year old Laphroaig."

"Desperate times," he said with a grin. "Actually, you're right he would kill us, best we don't tell him."

Assumpta leaned over the side of the bed and rummaged in the box, grabbing the transistor radio. She fiddled with it until she found a station which didn't have too much interference. Christmas music rang out and she turned to Peter and said with a smile, "That's a bit more festive."

They settled back down, Assumpta rearranging herself across his knee again. Peter pulled the sleeping bag up around them and tried to work out what to do with his arms. She made the decision for him by reaching round and pulling his arms, from behind her back, round her waist so she could settle back against him in comfort. Their hands sat together in her lap, not quite holding hands and yet not, not. He didn't move them.

He reflected that in other circumstances this might be his perfect Christmas. If someone had told him a few days ago that he'd be spending Christmas Day in a log cabin (though that was definitely stretching it a bit) with Assumpta Fitzgerald, cuddled up together, half naked in a sleeping bag he'd have accused the person of infiltrating his wildest dreams, and yet here they were.

Slade came on the radio and Assumpta giggled. Peter sat entranced listening to her and feeling the shaking of her body against his. Giggling was not a sound you usually associated with Assumpta and he fell a little bit more in love with her if that was possible.

"I can just imagine you rocking round your bedroom to this when you were eight, thinking you were cool."

"I was cool," he said indignantly, trying to compose himself.

She snorted, "You couldn't have been, bet you were cute though."

"Better believe it. I broke hearts at the cub scout Christmas disco."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"Anyway it's still better than Xanadu. What's that song even about?"

"A place where nobody dared to go, the love that we came to know, they call it Xanadu," she sang softly.

Peter gulped involuntarily.

"You're right it is a terrible song, this is better," she said hastily.

Peter wondered for a moment if she'd also attributed the awful lyrics to their situation.

The DJ broke the silence by talking over the end of the song and they both listened to him prattle on. Peter forced a chuckle at a couple of the jokes, anything to cover the awkwardness. The next song started playing and Peter groaned as he recognised the intro to a slow, romantic song. The last thing his mind needed was any romance brought to the, already fraught, situation.

"Doesn't exactly scream Merry Christmas does it?" He remarked as Joni Mitchell started singing River.

"Not like Noddy Holder, no," Assumpta quipped. There was a beat of silence. "I love Joni Mitchell, in a depressing sort of way."

"Yeah, bit more grown up than Xanadu," he said softly and couldn't resist brushing some of her hair away that had been tickling his chin.

"Yeah," her voice sounded strained.

They lapsed into silence, listening to the song. Then Assumpta turned to him, "Maybe we should," her voice trailed off as he gazed at her. Her eyes slipped down to his lips and Peter could have sworn she was about to kiss him.

"Maybe we should?" He murmured.

She raised her eyes back up to meet his and licked her lips slightly. "We should..."

Peter told his guilt to take a hike and inclined his head towards hers. He thought she was about to close the gap and then...

and then the song finished and the jolly sounds of Wizard singing I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday emanated from the radio. It was like a bucket of cold water in the face. Peter turned away so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash. Assumpta immediately busied herself eating the Christmas cake. He tried to get his breathing under control, it was so reminiscent of the play it was almost painful.

"We should finish this and try to get some sleep," she said between mouthfuls.

"Finish the cake?" he cleared his throat, "right, good idea."

It wasn't his imagination he was sure, they'd nearly kissed. A wave of guilt washed over him as he thought about his vows. Then he thought about the ache in the pit of his stomach at the missed opportunity and another wave of guilt swept in.

"I need to em, use the facilities," he pointed ruefully outside.

"Oh right of course." With much shuffling he managed to extricate himself from the sleeping bag, pulled on his soaking wet trousers and jacket and heaved the door open to get outside. The cold air hit him like a blast of reality and he leaned against the outside of the hut both shivering and gulping it down. This was the welcome equivalent of a cold shower after the events that had just transpired. He closed his eyes, clenched his fists and muttered "Pull it together!" fiercely at himself.

* * *

Assumpta burrowed down into the sleeping bag as a blast of cold air swept in when Peter left. She pulled the bag over her head and groaned. What had nearly happened there, had she really been about to kiss him. More importantly had he been about to kiss her?

"Bloody Wizard," she griped to herself. Mind you, the DJ was now playing Frosty the Snowman and as much of a passion killer as Wizard had been, she really couldn't imagine snogging to The Jackson 5. She snorted, what was she doing thinking about what song was best background music while she snogged the priest? He was a priest, she reminded herself and even if he gave in to a momentary lapse the guilt he'd feel later would be insurmountable.

Peter came back in, slamming the door behind him and bringing in a small avalanche of snow. He was shivering and looked miserable.

"God get that wet stuff off and get back in," she cried with concern, only realising after that it might sound like she was trying to get him naked and drag him back into bed. She blushed furiously.

He didn't seem to notice though and after pulling off his wet outer layers he clambered back in and they both tried to get comfy again. It seemed to Assumpta that the ease of physical closeness they'd had earlier had disappeared. Peter sat awkwardly behind her, not wrapping his arms round her like he had before. The music changed again and The Pogues Christmas classic began playing.

"This song is really the best Christmas song ever," she said softly.

"Yup a song about an arguing couple that mentions the drunk tank, that really sums up the spirit of Christmas."

"Oh come on, who doesn't like this?"

"Okay," he said begrudgingly, "it is good." The beat of the song changed and before they knew it they were both singing along.

She laughed, "See you can't help but sing along."

She felt Peter relax a bit as they bantered about the lyrics, at some point his arms found their way around her waist again.

"We should try and get some sleep," he said and she nodded.

With a bit of shuffling and a lot of embarrassment they both managed to lie down. They discovered they didn't fit in any other way except lying on their sides. Assumpta determinedly tried not to think about the word 'spooning'.

She lay facing the door with Peter pressed up against her. She could feel that, again, he wasn't sure what to do with his arms so she reached round and pulled his round her waist like she'd done earlier.

"Night Peter," she whispered.

"Night Assumpta, and Merry Christmas."

* * *

Sometime later Assumpta lay there thinking about that old romantic notion that you sleep amazingly well when you're finally with the person you love. Well they were wrong, she couldn't sleep a wink. Her whole body was hyperaware of how close Peter was. She could feel his breath tickling the top of her head, the weight of his arm felt comfortable round her middle and his knees seemed to fit perfectly into the crook of hers.

She kept trying to relax and fall asleep but the butterflies in her stomach refused to settle and her heart was doing at least a hundred beats a minute. There was also a large part of her that didn't want to fall asleep. This would be her one night with this wonderful man and she wanted to commit every last detail to memory.

At some point during the night Assumpta realised she needed the loo. She eyed up the door, not looking forward to having to leave the warmth of the sleeping bag, and Peter's warm body, put wet clothes on and go outside. She glanced round, Peter seemed to be asleep so she wriggled out as carefully as she could. It was freezing outside of the sleeping bag and she was even more grateful that there had only been one. She suspected it was their combined body heat that was stopping them both from being at serious risk of hypothermia.

When she came back Peter seemed to have remained asleep and she tried to shimmy back into the sleeping bag as gently as she could. As she settled herself Peter moaned softly behind her and mumbled sleepily, "You're freezing," before wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close and gently trapping her feet between his legs to heat them up. Then he sighed contentedly and kissed the top of her head.

Assumpta lay frozen unsure what to do. Part of her brain was screaming to stay perfectly still and enjoy this moment; the other part was telling her that Peter was clearly asleep and didn't know what he was doing and that he'd regret it and be consummed with guilt in the morning. She lay there warring with herself for several moments. Eventually she settled on a compromise, she didn't move from his embrace but instead softly spoke his name. She could sense him gradually coming to and her heart sank as he mumbled, "sorry," and withdrew his arms.

They both lay there in an uncomfortable silence; she could tell he was trying not to touch her, a hard feat when two people were sharing one sleeping bag. Finally Assumpta sought to break the tension. "Did you think I was someone else?" She tried to keep her voice light and jokey but it came out sounding strained. Peter didn't reply and she was about to say something else to lighten the mood when he said, "No I didn't think you were anyone else. Maybe I thought I was someone else for a moment."

Assumpta's heart was hammering and with some difficulty she managed to turn round to face him.

He wouldn't make eye contact with her but instead kept staring at a fixed point in the distance over her head.

"Peter?" Her voice sounded shaky.

"Assumpta don't please."

He couldn't believe he'd let his guard down. He'd been wrapped in a warm cocoon of sleep and contentment when she got back into the sleeping bag and it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to gather her in his arms. Now he'd ruined everything, what must she think of him? If he could just avoid her eyes he'd make it through this ordeal. And then he looked at her, and he was lost.

"It would be nice if we could both be different people, just for a moment," she whispered.

He gazed at her lips and suddenly he could barely remember his own name let alone why this was a bad idea. And then, without even being aware of it happening, his lips brushed hers.


End file.
